People Watcher
by Guera Mexicana
Summary: A stranger observes as two people stop for a bite to eat.
1. Chapter 1

This is just a little something that popped into my head the other day.

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><p>People watching<p>

I sat in yet another greasy spoon reading a local paper. It is difficult to get a grasp on the real world when you spend your whole day driving and sometimes most nights. I typically sit in a little corner watching everyone else live the kind of life I'll never have. I admit, its kinda weird, some old guy watching all the other diners enjoying their food. But I get no other opportunity to see normalcy.

As my food arrived I noticed a couple walk in the door. I could hardly call them a couple, though. They were dressed in some pretty strange clothes for this kind of place. He was wearing a dark suit with a hideous tie and she wore a skirt suit with high heels. They were attractive people. They seemed to be physically fit and well groomed. The hostess gestured that they should follow her and I saw him place his hand on her back, gently guiding her. These people sure are strange. I still couldn't tell if my first impression of them was correct.

They were seated just a couple of tables away from me. Just close enough and just far enough. I tried to see if either of them were wearing wedding rings, but as far as I could tell their fingers were bare. Were they secret lovers meeting on the outskirts of town? Did they work together? My curiosity got the best of me and I couldn't help but ignore my own dinner to observe these two.

Not much happened while they waited for their food. They seemed to be having a conversation that could also be considered a small argument. No one was yelling, but they definitely were not agreeing about something. The waitress brought their plates and I saw the woman roll her eyes as the man seemed to be drooling over his food. I guessed they actually come to places like this a lot. He dove right in while she examined her food thoroughly. It was just a salad, so I don't know what exactly she was looking for. Finally she pierced a few leaves with her fork, took a deep breath, and began eating. He offered her a bite of his burger, but she refused. He tried again, but still her answer was no. He gestured to something behind her and as she reached for what ended up being a ketchup bottle I saw him sneak a fork full of her salad. He was too slow, though. She turned and caught him. She playfully slapped his hand and they both smiled.

But there was something so strange about them. The way they interacted with each other told me that they were more than mere work friends out after a late night. Yet, again, it wasn't as if they were trying to be sneaky about being together. They were relaxed, comfortable, happy. I was envious of them. What ever they were to each other, it seemed to be something special.

They finished eating and as he turned around to get the waitress' attention I saw her pull a sneaky move of her own. She grabbed a couple of remaining fries off his plate, drowned them in ketchup and just before she successfully ate them he saw her and grabbed her wrist to stop her. They fought for a moment before he conceded and let her eat them. Again, they smiled and laughed before getting up to leave. He replaced his hand on her back, paid for their meals and left.

I'll never know who those two were, but I'm certain that they are extremely close. I left that night without eating, but I felt happier than I had in a long time.


	2. Chapter 2

A huge thank you to so kiss me goodbye and for the reviews! They encouraged me to turn this into a chapter story. It was only going to be the one story.

I don't own The X-files or their characters, but if anyone is willing to give up ownership, I'll gladly accept.

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><p>"Mulder, how can you always eat at places like that?" She asked as the pair left the diner.<p>

"The same way you can eat salads day in and day out." He replied.

"I only eat that because it's the only thing edible and sometimes that's not even good."

"So, you might as well enjoy the really good stuff while you can." He gave her a boyish smile and entered the car.

The Next Morning

"Ok, everybody, let's get started." Agent Donnie Hughes was leading the investigation of an unusual murder in the suburbs of Witchita. The small, crowded room quickly quieted down. "22 year old Shawn Jackson was found 2 days ago in a local field. He was stripped naked and had what appeared to be random cuts down his back and arms. There seemed to be no evidence that this is where he was murdered. It was just a body dump. He was last seen leaving work last Saturday night around 7. The initial coroner's report states that he died between the hours of midnight and 5 am on Wednesday morning. Apparently our perp wanted to play with him for a few days. So far we have found no evidence to link us to the murderer."

"And you won't." The whole room turned in perfect unison to the back of the room. There stood a tall dark haired man and a short red headed woman.

"Excuse me, who are you?" Agent Hughes asked.

"I'm Agent Mulder, and this is my partner, Agent Scully. We were assigned to come here and assist in your search."

"How exactly can you do that when we have a group of well trained agents right here?"

"With all due respect, sir, I am a criminal profiler specializing in serial killers."

"Serial killers?" The room exploded in conversation. "We have nothing to support that theory."

"I understand that, but I know something you don't. You see, there are 3 other victims with similar markings on their backs."

"Where did these take place?" Agent Hughes was clearly getting annoyed at this stranger's intrusion."

Finally the short red head stepped forward and spoke, "The first victim that we know of was in Cheyenne, Wyoming. The second was in Tucson, and the third victim was found last month in Madison, Wisconsin. Two females, and now a second male."

"Ok, everybody, we're going to break for lunch and if everyone could meet back here at 1:30, we'll discuss this further." Agent Hughes waited until the group had dispersed before approaching the visitors. "Fine, tell me what you know and we'll take over."

"Again, sir, we respect your authority in your town, but we were assigned to come here and I believe we can help you catch this guy." The woman spoke again.

"Agent..."

"Scully, we're here, you might as well use us."

He took a deep breath and then, "Alright, would you please excuse me for one moment." He disappeared from the room but returned within minutes. "I hope you folks like turkey. He laid out a few deli sandwiches and some water bottles. I'm diabetic so I have to eat, I hope you don't mind."

"Of course not," Mulder said. They all sat down and opened their files along with their lunches. With a mouthful of his sandwich Mulder began, "the victims have all been randomly chosen. There are no similarities between any one of them. His first victim was a male, then the two females."

"And now the second male," repeated Hughes.

"Right, they have all been different ages, races, and from different parts of the country."

"So, what is your profile on him?"

"This guy is most likely a white male in his late 50's. He's probably a business man, seeing how his victims are from random cities. He enters his own fantasy world, kid naps, tortures, and eventually murders. By the time you find the body he's moved on. I'm guessing he's long gone, but I'm also positive we have enough to get this guy. We know where he's been and when."

By the time the rest of the agents returned Mulder and Scully had given Hughes enough evidence to convince him of their theory.

All the eyes in the room were now on Mulder. "There are over 120 active serial killers in the United States at this time. Our job is to find one of them." Mulder opened the room for questions.

"What do we know about our guy?" One agent asked.

"We don't know anything for sure. We can only guess his characteristics. We believe he is in his late 50's and has a very high IQ, but works in a menial job. He probably comes from a broken home and raised by a very controlling mother."

"What is his motive?" Asked a female in the back.

"He wants to be in control. He hasn't sexually abused his victims, but as a child he was probably a victim to this. We don't know how he chooses his victims. It seems that he waits for someone to be alone and picks them up. Agent Scully will do an autopsy on the most recent victim to determine the cause of death, but it is probably the same as all the others."

"Which is what?" The room seemed to say together.

"Suffocation." Scully said. "We found a fiber in the throat of the second victim. It's a type of cotton usually found in sheets or pillow cases. We suspect he suffocated her with a pillow. It was probably something the murderer overlooked because we haven't found anything like this in the other 2 victims."

"What exactly are the rest of us supposed to do, then?"

"Basically, help us brainstorm to find out the real identity of this guy before he strikes again." Mulder said.

"How much time do we have?" asked Agent Hughes.

"With this one, there is no exact time frame. His cool off period is between 4 to 6 weeks. Here are copies of the other cases." Mulder picked up a stack and began passing them around. "Let's get started on this and find this guy." Everyone gathered into smaller groups and began searching the files. Mulder turned to Scully, "Why don't you go on and do the autopsy? I can handle this."

"Can't wait. Hopefully, we'll know more in a few hours."


	3. Chapter 3

The previous Saturday

"What do you want from me?" asked the poor soul that would become another victim.

It seemed the crazy man ignored the question, "I'm so glad you could join me this evening. I'm sure we'll get along just fine." Shawn watched as his captor stared blankly at him before turning around and going through the door at the top of the stairs.

Two hours ago, or so he guessed, Shawn finished his shift at the local bowling alley and walked through the employee door to where his car was parked. That's the last thing he remembered. He woke up in what appeared to be a basement or storm cellar. The walls were made of cinder blocks and the floor barely held together it's cement foundation. There was a small window on one wall but it was certainly too small for him to fit through. He could see that it would soon be completely dark and was grateful the summer months held the evening light for a few more hours. It would be the only way he could tell what time it was.

The rest of the room was completely empty. The man entered just after he had gathered his surroundings and acted as if the two had been best friends for their entire lives. It was strange for Shawn. He didn't understand what was going on inside that guy's head.

Shawn spent the night curled up in one of the corners. At times he thought sleep took over, but mostly he was cold and uncomfortable. His thoughts were consumed by the crazy maniac he occassionally heard upstairs. What was going to happen?

The window eventually revealed the morning light and Shawn knew the old man would return soon. In the brighter light he saw the room a little better, but there was nothing to see anyways. He stood and stretched his body out, slowly walking the around. While he took the grand tour Shawn examined the small space for any escape. The window was out of the question and last night he heard the chorus of chains and locks being latched on the only escape. He had nothing to do but wait.

As the sunlight increased his stomach growled. It didn't really matter to him, though. Shawn wanted nothing but to get out as fast as he could. While he was thinking the familiar sounds of the chains echoed through the room. He quickly stood and backed into the furthest corner.

"Good morning, friend. Sleep well?" The old man descended the stairs and looked at Shawn. The smile on the man's face really creeped Shawn out. He saw the man wasn't quite as old as he thought, but was about 50 something. His hair had some grey in it, but it was mostly brown. He was taller than Shawn was, and a bit beefier. Suddenly he felt even more like he was never going to get out. "I thought maybe you'd be hungry and you needed a trip to the bathroom. I'll be waiting for you in the dining room." Then he turned and left again.

_What's with this guy?_ He thought. Shawn waited for a minute or two and then noticed the door was wide open. Slowly, he crept up the stairs, but they creaked at each step. When he got to the door he noticed there wasn't much more light coming in from up there. The walls were dark and so far he saw no other way out. Quickly, Shawn learned this was a house. He doubted anyone actually lived there. He made his way down the only hall and found an open door. The bathroom. Pushing the door open didn't make him feel any better. The sink and toilet were covered in some kind of brown goo. He reluctantly felt the wall for a light switch. There was barely enough light to see his own hand in front of him after he shut the door.

After doing his business Shawn continued down the hall and found the dining room. Apparently this place consisted of the three rooms he had already been in. He could see no other door or window. _How did the man get in and out?_ There was a table in the center of the room and two chairs. In one of the chairs was the man. "Sit, let's eat."

He sat, but only stared at the man, who began eating the pancakes in front of him. Clearly the food came from a restaurant. There was no way he cooked that stuff here. Shawn did his best to survey the room for something to take this guy out. It was the same as his prison. Nothing. There seemed to be no hope left for him now. As if someone had pushed a button in his brain a thought occurred to him. _The chair_. Could he really muster enough courage and strength to use the very chair he was sitting in to at least knock that guy out? I guess there was really no other way to find out.

_"Please, God,"_ he silently prayed, _"if I'm meant to get out of here, then help me do this."_ Shawn waited for the old man to take a drink of his orange juice before making his move. He placed one hand on the pole supporting the back rest, quickly stood, and then tightly gripped the chair with both hands. He closed his eyes and swung the chair at his captor as hard as he could.


	4. Chapter 4

So, I'm very sorry for the long wait and I hope you will all forgive me! And this chapter may be kinda boring, but it will let you see what our friend is like.

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><p>I got a decent night's sleep that night. It had been a while since that has happened and I felt ready for another day on the road. This time I have to make my way to the Des Moines area. Iowa wasn't originally in my plans, but the higher ups always throw me a curve ball half way through. Last time the curve ball was Eureka, Oregon. At least this one is closer to my current location. Kansas is nice enough. I don't think I'd want to live here. I've heard stories of the unpredictable winters. Of all the places I've visited this time around, I'd pick Tucson. I can live with heat. Besides, every joint i walked into felt like a walk-in freezer.<p>

After I shave I step outside to look at my haul. Not many drivers do this, and I feel unsafe if I don't. Every morning I check my truck and today I am happy that there are no visible concerns. While I walk around my truck examining all the major components I think of the people I watched in the diner last night. Still intrigued at their relationship, I hope it was their magic spell that put me to bed so well at ease.

Hauling lumber was not my original idea. As a kid I dreamed of being an astronaut. I was spellbound watching the missions on tv. Even after they became old news, I was watching. Each time one came on my eyes would open wider and my heart would leap. My parents weren't too thrilled with the idea. They called me a stupid dreamer and said I could never do something like that. After my dad died when I was 8, my world revolved around the Nasa program. Mom thought I was worthless.

Before my dad died my mom embodied the perfect house wife; always looking pristine and well kept. I remember, and miss, her dresses with her gloves and hats. But as I grew into my teens mom embraced the 60's. Her dresses and skirts got shorter and shorter. My mom brought all her boyfriends home, too. She became the slut of our neighborhood. One night when I was just 11 her latest boyfriend came in my room when I was asleep. I'll never forget that night and the things he made me do. Mom kept this boyfriend around a lot longer than any of the others. Eventually I told her what he did, but she was too drunk or high to care by then. I moved out when I was 15.

I managed to stay in school and for years I studied hard. I wanted to be just like Alan Shepard and John Glenn. I applied for the Air Force Academy the minute I was eligible. It wasn't exactly a popular thing to do at the time, but I was determined. However, I was quickly looked over since I had no nomination or family history. Instead, I joined the Air Force. I was excited that I was qualified to begin training as a pilot! The process to determine this took almost a year, but I began training as a fighter pilot soon after. I was expected to join the fight in Vietnam. A month before deploying, though, I broke my leg and was pulled from the list. It was such a bad injury that I was never considered again. When my enlistment was up, I decided I'd had enough. The war ended just months later.

My mind drifted back to the present as I checked the final gauge in my cabin. I was ready to hit the road.


	5. Chapter 5

This one is a lot longer! I'm sorry for another long wait! Thank you to so kiss me goodbye for the little nudge!

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><p>Mulder stood outside Scully's hotel room knocking on the door. After a second attempt he finally heard rustling noises from within. "Good morning, Scully!" he called to her.<p>

She opened the door and with half opened eyes asked, "What day is it?"

"Friday," he replied. Mulder took a long look at his partner. She was dressed in pink satin pajamas and her hair was a total mess! "What time did you get in last night?"

"Um, I think it was 11:30." She opened the door all the way inviting him in. Finally Scully noticed Mulder had his hands full.

"Breakfast?"

"You are a godsend!" She took a container of mixed fruit and yogurt from him and sat down at the small table covered in papers.

Mulder soon followed and examined the table. "What time did you go to bed?"

"I don't remember." She yawned. "I spent a long time at the coroner's office looking for our victim. Seems he had been misplaced. We finally found him in cold storage. Apparently we overlooked him once or twice. Poor kid. The autopsy took hours to complete. Let me finish breakfast and get dressed. Then I'll give you my preliminary findings. We should get the rest from the lab by the end of the day."

They finished their meal and Mulder left to let her get ready. It took her longer than he expected for her to knock on his door. She must have taken an extra long shower, he guessed. It didn't matter to him, though. Messy, or put together, she was still beautiful to him. It was only 9:30, but the late start might go noticed by the conventional group they dealt with yesterday.

"I'm sorry it took me so long. I didn't realize what time it was." Scully sat down at Mulder's table and laid her files on it. "So, the obvious cause of death was suffocation. He must have used a pillow again, because there are no outward signs of strangulation or anything else. No fibers this time, though. When I examined the exterior I noticed he actually had more signs of trauma than the other victims had."

"Makes me wonder if this one fought back."

"That was my guess, too. But, not all his injuries were fresh. He was abducted on Saturday night, but his oldest bruise appears to have happened later on Sunday."

"Where is that bruise?" Mulder asked.

"His left thigh. None of the other victims had wounds like this. The suspect must have beat him with some kind of stick. It didn't break his leg, but the bruise is the size of an orange. It has significant signs of healing."

"That is strange. The other victims' bruises were localized around their wrists and ankles."

"He had those too," she said. "And, they were consistent with the other victims. His other signs of trauma included smaller, newer bruises on his back, and even his head. I had to use a UV camera to see that one. He must have hit his head during a fight. He had no stomach contents, either. That is new, as well."

"I bet he was refusing to eat. The other victims had no signs of neglect like that. Is there anything else that's different?" he inquired.

"Not that we can tell at this point."

"What about the cuts? Anything tell us about what he's using?"

Scully sighed, "No, we may not figure it out until we catch him. The cuts are too inconsistent. I wouldn't put it past him to learn that it's more than one object."

"Ok," Mulder said. "Let's get this info to Agent Hughes' team and see where we can go from here."

Mulder and Scully drove over to the Wichita office in silence. Each of them thought of the latest evidence and what it might mean. As they walked into the conference room all eyes turned to them once again.

"We thought you'd be here sooner," Agent Hughes said. He was clearly agitated at their late arrival.

"We're sorry," Scully responded, "I got a late start."

"Well, I understand you have some new information from the autopsy."

"We do! Agent Mulder and I have gone over some of it already and have some ideas to present."

"Good, we could use something useful at this point." Agent Hughes gave the two visiting agents the floor. The team discussed the new evidence until it was past lunch time.

Dr. Scully was seeing signs of Agent Hughes' deteriorating condition and suggested they take a break. The rest of the team was happy she mentioned it, but Agent Hughes bolted out of the room as soon as it was agreed upon.

"I'd better go check on him. He looked pretty bad." Scully said to Mulder.

"Good idea, can I grab some lunch for you?"

"Sounds great, thanks!" Scully quickly followed Agent Hughes into his office. "Are you ok?"

He quickly turned in surprise at the voice behind him. He had already pulled his shirt tail up and was about to stick his syringe into his abdomen. "I didn't realize anybody was following me." He turned his back to her again and administered his insulin. When he turned again he fixed his shirt and disposed of the needle.

"Type 1?"

"Yeah, I was diagnosed at 6"

"Wow, that's early!"

"Both my parents have it, too."

"Do you need anything? Is your lunch nearby?" Scully scanned the room for a mini fridge.

"Actually, it's down the hall in the break room," he said as he sat down.

"I'll be right back." Scully didn't realize she had given a slight smile to the ailing agent, but he did.

She returned promptly and handed over his sandwich. "You don't seem to change your routine much, do you?"

"I like what I like, is all," he replied.

"Your color is coming back. You know, I bet you could get your own fridge in here. That way you'd be closer to your food. You could also store your insulin in it."

"Thanks, but a mini fridge doesn't make me look all that good. Some of the higher ups have them. I don't want my colleagues to think I'm all high and mighty. Besides, I don't keep that much insulin at work. Usually just enough for a week."

"What about taking more regular breaks? Is that a sign of weakness too? Just to let you know, everyone in that room was thinking the same thing already." Scully said.

Agent Hughes simply nodded and continued to eat his sandwich. "Thanks for checking up on me."

"It's nothing."

"No, really. I appreciate it."

"I'm just doing my job."

She turned to leave the room when he asked, "Since when does the FBI care about my health issues?"

"I am also a doctor. The FBI was career number 2."

He looked genuinely surprised. "I would never have known."

"How do you think you got that autopsy done so fast?"

"That was you?"

"No, I really used my feminine charm to get it done. Of course, I did it. Didn't Agent Mulder tell you?"

"He didn't say a word about it to me. Care to have a reassignment?"

At this, Scully released a giggle. "I'm sorry to disappoint you, but I like my position."

"Well, if you ever change your mind you are always welcome in Wichita."

"Thank you," Scully began to blush.

Agent Hughes stood and walked around his desk to Scully. "Would it be ok if I asked you to dinner tonight?"

This time it was Scully who was surprised. "Agent Hughes..."

"Please, call me Donnie."

At the sudden introduction to his first name Scully nearly vomited. Agent Hughes could see she was distressed and asked, "Agent Scully are you ok? Did I say something wrong?"

At that moment Mulder entered the room, "Scully! What happened?" He looked at Agent Hughes with a serious expression _back__off_! it said!

"I don't know, she just seemed to freak out suddenly."

"I'm ok." Though her words said one thing, her face said another, _get__me__out__of__here!_

"I've got it from here, Agent Hughes." Without another word Mulder whisked his partner away. As soon as they got out of the hall Mulder asked, "What did he say to you?"

"Nothing, Mulder, I'm fine."

"Scully, tell me. I need to know how badly to kick his ass!"

Scully stopped walking. "Don't worry, he didn't do anything inappropriate."

Knowing he wouldn't get the truth out of her, he gently asked, "Are you ok?"

She simply nodded. She wanted Mulder to give her a hug. She thought that was a silly thought, but wanted it, nonetheless.

They began walking again, but more slowly. "Are you going to dinner with him?"

"Mulder! How did you...? Were you spying on me?" She was immediately angry with her partner, again.

"More like eavesdropping." Mulder lowered his head in guilt. "I walked up to the door just before he asked you. I didn't want to spoil the moment so I just waited. I guess that was a bad idea."

Scully's expression only softened slightly. She was still angry with her partner, but she was more upset about the leading agent's name.

"It's ok if you want to get out of here. I'll cover for you." He finally lifted his gaze to meet hers'. "I did get you some lunch. It's a nice big salad!" He was trying to raise her spirits in spite of everything.

His little puppy dog face made her relax some more. "That sounds nice, Mulder. I hope I can keep it down."

"It's in the conference room where you were seating." Mulder looked up and saw Agent Hughes coming down the hall. "Would you like me to explain things to Hughes?"

"No, I think I owe him an explanation. Thanks, Mulder."

Mulder walked away but looked over his shoulder just as Agent Hughes' countenance fell. _Poor__guy_, Mulder thought. All because his parents named him Donnie.


	6. Chapter 6

Has it really been 3 years? I. am. so. sorry! Many, many things have happened in the last 3 years and I've always felt so guilty for not completing this story! I actually didn't write anything in that time. But I've felt more like writing lately so I think it's time to get this story finished! Only 3 chapters left to write! I know things might be off but please forgive me!

It didn't work. Not the way he had hoped, anyway. After throwing the chair at the guy Shawn attempted to find a way out. The guy that had taken him was now lying on the floor with a bloody gash in his forehead. Shawn knew he wasn't dead, but he had to get out. This house was so strange! It looked as though everything had been covered up. Where was the door? After looking for about a minute Shawn gave up and decided that the window was his only option. It was dirty and not much of the daylight was coming through, but he knew it was now or never. He picked up what was left of the chair he threw and threw it towards the window. It shattered and just as Shawn stuck his head outside he felt something grab his leg.

"You won't get away from me!" The man was still down on the floor, but he had Shawn's leg in a death grip. He was strong!

Shawn reached for the window hoping to pull himself from the grasp. He cut his hands on the remaining glass but the man pulled him down hard. Then he felt a painful blow to his thigh. It made him collapse on the floor. The man stood up and Shawn saw he had a chair leg in his hand.

"What do you want from me?" Shawn cried.

"I just wanted to have some fun. But I suppose I'll have to start a little early this time." the man reached for Shawn's arm and yanked him up. "You'll have to go back downstairs while I get ready."

"No! No! Help! Help me! Shawn frantically screamed!

"No one will ever hear you!" he said as he opened the basement door. It was the last thing he heard before being tossed down the stairs.


End file.
